Wednesday, April 04, 2007


From Ben Faulkner...

Just when you think life can’t get any worse you come home and find there’s this woman living in your house.

That was not the plan.

I did not need a house-sitter. I had a sister and a cleaner and between them they were supposed to be taking care of things while I was away. Then the cleaner won a fortune on the lottery, my sister decided to go bug-hunting in Sarawak, or Senegal, or Sumatra – Gabriella March seems a little hazy on the actual continent – and I get caught up in a civil war.

And when I finally get home, hoping for a little peace and quiet to get on with my work, there she is.

A gothic-novel reading, spectacle smashing, duster wielding danger to life and limb. Sitting. In my house.

And I’m supposed to be grateful?


Kate Walker said...

Poor Ben! You sound so disgruntled! (Is it possible to be gruntled?) And I see your point. But just relax. You're in a good (a great) author's hands. By the time she's finished with you and Ellie you're going to be very very grateful


Anne McAllister said...

Stop fussing, Ben. It's The Best Thing That Could Happen To You. And I, for one, can hardly wait to read it!

Ben said...

I really don't like the sound of this!